Ew! Alien skin!
From downstairs, dramatically:
“Ew Mom, what is this? What is it doing in our house?” My daughter’s voice, from the kitchen. She’s found something evolving at the back of the fridge, surely.
“What is it?” Son’s voice, from the computer in living room.
“What is it?” I call downstairs.
“Alien skin!” She steps to the living room, a length of flesh-colored “skin” in her hands.
“Ew, gross!” says Son. “Mom, have you been dating an alien? He left his skin!”
A length of flesh-colored skin, with that tell-tale white pantiliner panel, straight from the laundry room. Panty hose. Leggs hatched from an egg. Alien skin. Ew.
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